Drabbles
by MMBC
Summary: Drabbles as responses to challenges by Siningstar, concerning chiefly Kardia/Degel and Milo/Camus.
1. Chapter 1

Challenge no 8: "How can you confess without doing so?"

Kardia once asked Dégel: "What are the most important things to you?"

The cold man only smiled then. With a firm voice, as if he had practiced this since forever, he had answered: "My rationality, my loyalty, and my Cloth."

After all, it was easy to understand, for the polyhistor in him had demanded that it be so. Rationality, because he was one to use his head rather than his heart. It was also a fact that he was one to value virtues, and, for a Saint such as he was, what better virtue could there be besides loyalty to their Goddess? Loyalty, because he would die without so much as a frown should their Goddess wish so. And it should be self-explanatory that for a Gold Saint, his Cloth was his life, for that was what he was, a mere wearer of the Cloth that controlled his so-called destiny. Aquarius Cloth, because he was the Aquarius Saint.

Kardia smiled bitterly. Even though he should have known, he had hoped that his name had been the next one on the list, but since Dégel himself never really said anything about it, well, Kardia was not one to force anyone. They had left it at that.

Then one day, on a random mission that had gone so terribly wrong, yet there was no reason for it to, because even Dégel did not predict what was to cross them next. There should not have been the bunch of spirits there protecting the knife they were supposed to retrieve for the Pope, but there was. And so they fought, on and on and on, but Kardia's favourite needles were of no use, nor was Dégel's cold cosmos, for the material could not have touched the immaterial. And then, Kardia's heart had decided that it had done its work for the day, and thus deserved a break from him. It went round and round and round, and then it went black.

When he recovered, all he could see was Dégel's Cloth in front of him, its barrier warding off unwanted intrusions. Hours later, or perhaps minutes later, which could have been another lifetime, Dégel had returned and collapsed on his lap with enough wounds to last this and the next life.

The next day, when they had been back at Sanctuary, Kardia had said: "You are an imbecile. Why threw away your Cloth to protect me when it could have protected you?"

"It's my Cloth, I can wear it, I can throw it away."

"You are stupid. And you even put me before the mission. It might have been treason, you know."

"I know."

"You admit that you have been foolish then?"

"Because being foolish is being irrational."

And it clicked. Sometimes, you confess by not doing so. They had left it at that.


	2. Chapter 2

Challenge no 9: Drabble about the first thing that comes to your mind. Context: Milo and Camus practicing for a play for Athena. These horrible pseudo-poetic lines were written by yours truly, moi.

Disclaimer: I do not own Saint Seiya or The Lost Canvas. Forgot to say that every time.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

- O' Lucifer, morning star, thou art the brightest in the sky. Wherefore hast thou descended thy precious self here on earth, in the form of this illustrious man here in front of me? Pray do tell me, O' bright star, wherefore art thou looking at me with eyes which shame even crimson Antares so high in the heavens? Didst thou want me dead from thy look? For I could very well die here and die happy if thou keepeth looking at me with thy burning eyes. Ah, if only thou couldst see how my heart quivers under thy gaze; it is shivering as a shy flutter of the wing of a humming bird in the cage that is myself. Let the bird soar, O' perfection of angels, and concede me thy smile; roses would be shamed before the redness of thy lips and the sun would dim in comparison with thy smile. Come, sweet Lucifer, sweet Camus (a twitch, the sound of teeth grinding, and a sudden decrease in room temperature), concede me thy smile, and down at thy feet my heart I lay, quivering and dead from happiness no man has contained.

- What smooth words thou speak, my Apollon, yet I fear thou art telling truth not, but flatters to have me succumbed at thy seat here in thy own temple. For if only thou couldst see through the icy barriers separating myself and thy own, perhaps thou wouldst glimpse how I would give up myself for a mere word from thine mouth. Couldst thou not see, golden haired Apollon of my heart, thou art already my most reverend master? I lie to thee not, my soul I bare.

Milo gulped, grasped his mouth with his hands, doubled over and finally succumbed to laughter. Tears escaped his eyes as he was nearly rolling on the floor, his golden mane of hair tousled and his clothes disshelved.

- Damn you Milo, - Camus sighed in frustration, - If you keep that up then we would never be able to complete practice. How do you suppose we are going to perform?

- Sorry… Camus… - Milo was still trying to catch his breath as he tried to get up from the floor into a more acceptable position, - It was just so… (another gulp, more giggles; a kick, a yelp, panting again) hilarious as you said that. How uncharacteristic of you, and yet you acted the part perfectly I was almost thinking you really were going to give me a kiss next.

- There's no kiss in the plot and I'd be damned if I do that to you. – Camus' voice was emotionless, but judging from the rapidly congregating ice in the room, Milo knew better than to start laughing at him again. Correction, people thought Milo knew better. Yet, if people thought Milo knew better, perhaps they should think again.

- But O' glorious Camus, couldst thou not see I have been lying to thee not, just as thou said thou me? – Kneeling on the floor on one knee, Milo suddenly laid Camus' hand upon his own chest, his expression all but joking, - I say it again, my sweet Camus, down at thy feet my heart I lay.

For a minute after that suicidal display of affection, nothing happened. And then, very slowly, Camus lowered himself onto the floor where Milo was kneeling and preparing to run at the first syllabel of 'Freezing Coffin' that would surely be uttered. To his immense surprise, nothing of the sort happened. Rather, with deliberate languor, Camus raised his icy hands to touch Milo's face. After what seemed like an eternity of that chilling caress, which left cold sweat running down the nape of Milo's neck and a very bad feeling at the back of his mind, the icy man's soft lips soon followed to descend on his own parted ones.

The kiss was brief and chaste, but as Camus stood up and walked away from a twitching and foaming at the mouth Milo, he allowed himself a silent smirk. That should teach the twerp a lesson to take things seriously the next time, if there would ever be a next time, that was. Oh, and being damned felt good, if he ever bothered to admit it to himself…


	3. Chapter 3

Author's note: just a crazy little something from my hormone-induced brain on the spur of the moment. Not a response to a challenge, but a drabble nonetheless. Enjoy.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-

Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Saori, but people often called her Little Red Riding Hood because of the scarlet hood she usually wore. It was said that she wore the vibrant hood because she admired the fiery hair colour of her Granny Camus, who lived alone in the forest. She even attempted to paint her nails red in order to look like Granny's nails, but her papa Shion was appalled at the colour, and so she stopped. (In the background, she thought she heard 'Camus, you're a bad influence on Athena; I demand that you dye your hair green like mine for goddess' sake', but it was probably all her imagination, so she paid it no mind.)

One day, her papa told her:

- Little Red Riding Hood, bring this basket of bread and wine to your ill Granny deep in the forest. Do not stray away from the path, for there is a Big Bad Wolf lurking there, and it will eat you.

Little Red Riding Hood obeyed, and took the basket into the forest. She was singing happily on the way, for the thought of seeing Granny made her glad for the task, when a beautiful creature came out from the bushes to stop her on her way. It had a golden mane that shone as the sun, eyes so blue that the sky was put to shame, and a smile so sweet it melted the heart. It was the reputed wolf dwelling within the forest.

- Ah, Little Red Riding Hood. Why are you here in the forest walking alone?

But of course, Little Red Riding Hood had never seen the Big Bad Wolf before. She was dazzled by its beauty and therefore answered honestly:

- Papa Shion told me to bring this bread and wine to Granny Camus, who lives deep in the forest and who is ill. And who are you?

-I'm Milo the Wolf. But stay; you must have heard bad things about me, but really, I'm not bad. Come, don't be afraid; to prove to you I'm not bad, how about I show you where the meadow with the most beautiful flowers is? Granny will surely appreciate such a gift from his loving granddaughter.

Having in mind the dark intention to come and eat Granny first, and then Little Red Riding Hood when she arrived, Milo the Big Bad Wolf pointed Little Red Riding Hood to the meadow, where thousands upon thousands of flowers were in full bloom. The innocent girl, fooled by the wolf's appearance and deceitful words, happily nodded and went to pick flowers for her beloved Granny. (Again, in the background, 'Milo, I don't like flowers, damn it') The Big Bad Wolf grinned, showing his sharp teeth, before he made his way to Granny's house.

…

It was late afternoon when Little Red Riding Hood remembered that she was probably late for her delivery, packed up and started running towards Granny's house. When she was nearing the little cottage in the forest, she noticed strange noises coming out from the house. It sounded something like '… I swear, Camus, just, not again, ooh, ouch… Help!...' etc. etc. Fearing that something bad was happening, Little Red Riding Hood ran faster towards the house, but when she approached the door, things strangely became quiet again. ('Camus, Milo, if you dare taint the eyes of Athena, I will personally Stardust Revolution you into your next life!') She pushed the door and walked in.

Upon the bed, Granny was busying buttoning his shirt back up, an apologetic expression on his face.

- Apologies, Athena, I mean Little Red Riding Hood, I ate without waiting for you.

- You… ate?

Little Red Riding Hood was confused. In a corner, curled up in a tight sulking ball, was Milo the Big Bad Wolf. The wolf glanced at Little Red Riding Hood with teary puppy wolf eyes, a begging expression on his face, but a foot from under the blanket had suddenly appeared to give the wolf a kick on the side, making it yelp in alarm.

- Tell Athe… Little Red Riding Hood the truth, hm?

- Okay alright. You didn't have to kick me so hard. The truth is… by Granny instead. – The wolf's voice became smaller and smaller.

- I do not hear you. Speak louder, Milo.

_Words_ were muttered in Greek, which earned the wolf a harder kick on the side.

- Okay! Fine! The Big Bad Wolf who came to eat Granny was eaten by Granny instead. There! Satisfied?!

- Oh. – Was all Little Red Riding Hood could say. She did not understand very much, but suddenly she felt pity for the wolf who had his tongue stuck on the ice. But since no one was hurt, all was well.

And they lived happily ever after.

…

Reported by Seiya the Hunter and his group of Hunters who poked their heads in to join the fun.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: OK, I'm back again. To those who follow it, I'm working on GoL, I swear. This is just something I was inspired to write as I listened to Vera Lynn today, and I couldn't help myself. Thank you for the support for this little series. Here's some more. Happy reading. Star honey, I still love you. If you're still out there, drop me a line.

Disclaimer: I do not own the song 'We'll meet again'© and claim no right to it.

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_We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when…_

Milo stopped in the middle of the busy Athens market, unaware of his shopping bag dropping onto the ground with a crack and a smash. His eyes widened, before his heart clenched in on itself and paused altogether for a painful beat.

A young man with blazing red hair and matching eyes was staring back at him.

A tear rolled down too-pale cheek and the moment was broken.

_But I know we'll meet again some sunny day…_

Milo lunged forward and drew the young man into a bone-crushing embrace, tears flowing freely from his eyes.

'Camus, Camus, Camus,…' He repeated in a mantra, as if praying that this moment not be another dream his mind had conjured up to spite him.

The young man shuddered, before pushing Milo away.

'Who are you? How do you know my name? Why are you crying?'

The tears kept falling, and the young man with Camus' face and Camus' eyes and Camus' name raised a hand to wipe at them, never succeeding in stemming the flow. 'Why am I crying?' He muttered to himself, surprised, yet not entirely upset.

Milo took a deep breath, before taking another good look at the young man. No change, perhaps he looked just a tad younger than Camus had looked, without the premature lines around his eyes and the down turn of his lips.

'How old are you?' He asked.

'I beg your pardon?'

'How old are you?' Milo asked again, a hand on his heart in a futile attempt to cease its mad fluttering.

'Eighteen.' The young man, Camus, replied. Two years younger than when he had died, and some hundred years younger than Milo.

'Why are you crying?' Milo asked, and before he could stop himself, raised a hand to thumb away another tear rolling down that familiar too-pale cheek.

'I don't know.' The young man replied with wide eyes, unconsciously leaning into the hand. 'Somehow I can't stop crying when I look at you.'

'Your name is Camus.' Milo said, and his heart flipped again in his chest cavity.

'Yes.' The admission was quiet, and the market vanished from around them, leaving only the clear blue sky above.

_Keep smiling through, just like you always do,_

_Till the blue skies drive the dark clouds far away…_

'Then nice to meet you. My name is Milo. Would you like a tour of Athena's temple?' He smiled his brightest smile and extended a hand to the very alive Camus standing before him.

… _But I know we'll meet again some sunny day…_

The tears morphed into a smile as a too-pale hand grasped his to never let go again.


End file.
